


A blade in the darkness

by Cirilla9



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: Anal, Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Cutting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Gore, M/M, Master/Pet, Sex, Slavery, There's A Tag For That, general debasement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 13:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10247519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: Somewhere in their first three years together, Riki decides to put his threat into practice.





	

The body next to him inhaled steady breaths. Long and calm, slowed as they were only in a sleep. The Blondie beside him was fast asleep. This was his chance.

He reached under the bed, carefully, very slowly, trying not to make any sound to not wake his opponent. The knife was where he had placed it. His fingers wrapped purposefully around the handle.

The blade glistened in the moonlight seeping through the wall-height window.

Almost not breathing he rose to his knees, his moves quiet and smooth like these of some feline creature and as so deathly. The tick, soft mattress didn’t make a sound as he straddled the Elite and placed a blade at his throat.

Iason opened his eyes.

Riki’s hand twitched and he almost drew back but he held his position. He got the upper hand, he told himself. Now he just needed to slice the skin with one swift movement. But the man beneath him looked straight into his eyes and there was nothing that spoke of fear into that gaze. Blue eyes stared up at him calm and calculating.

Everything seemed frozen in that moment. Riki was sure even his heart stopped beating.

-I told you I’ll kill you some day.- He said finally, then added, - Aren’t you afraid? – a note of awe sneaking into his voice in spite of him.

\- I know you won’t do this.

His voice was as even as always. Riki pressed a knife harder, the skin dipped under the blade, but not hard enough to draw blood.

\- You think I don’t have the courage?

\- You are one of the most courageous man I know, - answered Iason and something akin to fondness flashed in his eyes. – But you want to live. And if you were to kill me now, you would soon follow me to the death.

The first strings of doubt crawled into the mongrel’s mind. Iason Mink never joked.

\- I can take down Daryl.

\- Perhaps. Though you could be surprised, furniture have some combat training. I was not talking about him, however. – He spoke patiently as if explaining something to his pet. How could he stay so calm and not loose even an ounce of his dignity while having a knife at his throat, Riki didn’t know. – If you  kill me, Jupiter will know it immediately and half of the Eos’ security, if not all of them, will be here in a moment. You will be executed before the sun rise.

\- Maybe it’s worth it, - lied Riki, feeling he’s losing a battle rapidly. His hand was beginning to sweat onto the knife-handle. – Maybe I’d gladly die if only I’d get my revenge before.

\- Maybe it’s worth it, - repeated Iason. – But you don’t want to die.

He moved too quickly for Riki to react. He must have loosen his grip on the weapon, distracted by the talk, because one moment he was straddling Iason with the knife pressed to his throat, the next he was pinned to the bed with the Blondie’s weight, his wrist squeezed in a painful grip, the knife falling to the floor with a loud clatter. The last thing he saw was Blondie’s fist flying to his face. A blow to his temple sent him unconscious.

 

* * *

 

 

When he came to himself, first thing he felt was that his movements were restricted, his hands tied together above his head. He was standing, slumping rather, held upward only by the chains attached to his wrists. He was clothed in a loose shirt, pants and underwear. He couldn’t see anything. Only after a while he realized he was blindfolded.

He tugged experimentally on the restraints. The chains clunk up in the air but metal cuffs held tight.

He gulped when his mind caught up with the awakened body and reminded him of what he’d done and supplied suitable images of what Iason will probably do to him in retaliation.

He heard the door swish open and someone switched on the lights because the utter darkness behind the blindfold turned red. Iason came to him. (It must have been Iason for only he had the air of such haughtiness around himself.) Every muscle in Riki’s body tightened, he waited for the Blondie’s move.

\- It seems you like playing with knives, so I’ve got something for you tonight.

Riki inhaled sharply, as the cold blade touched his throat. Iason wouldn’t kill him, he convinced himself weakly, at least not like that. He went very still. Exhaled, when the blade moved lower, tracing his skin with just the very tip. The press wasn’t hard enough to broke the skin but he knew all Iason had to do was to put a little more strength behind his grip and Riki would bleed.

The sharp edge came into contact with his tank top hem. It didn’t stop there. Riki gasped as Iason cut through it, tearing the material. It pulled at the back of Riki’s neck, probably leaving a mark there, before giving in. Iason did the same with the wide straps at Riki’s shoulders and the remnants of Riki’s shirt landed on the ground.

The mongrel tried to shy away from the touch when he felt the cool press of steel just above the waist of his trousers, creeping in and starting to cut the leather in slow decisive movements. Riki tried not to move his chest too much, keeping his tense abdomen as immobile as he could, though his ribs were rising and falling rapidly as he inhaled panicked breaths.

When the trousers were cut enough, Iason pulled them down and proceeded to the underwear. Riki started to shiver uncontrollably as the cold metal smoothed alongside the delicate skin of his penis. But Iason’s movements were as firm and confident as with the previous parts of his garments and Riki calmed despite himself, an automatic response of a wild animal approached by the experienced tamer.

 When Riki was completely naked, Iason put a blade to his bare skin again; still moving it just a breath too weakly to scar him. The skin dipped beneath the sharp pointed end of the dagger. The knife wandered across his chest, traced his jutting collarbones, circled the muscles of his breast.

Then Iason’s hand went down, through his abdomen, where his muscles were clenched tightly - a perfect display of his six-pack for his master - and down through his pubic hair until the blade touched the pet’s soft penis. Riki recoiled from it as much as he could, but the chains prevented much move, they were already strained and only jingled pathetically at Riki’s effort. The Blondie just stepped a little closer. The knife swiped down and up his soft cock, the touch of it infinitely light. When it swept to the underside of his thigh, Riki let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The taller man circled him, moving the blade around his hip. It was placed against the small of his back, run up tracing his spine, eliciting goose bumps. Riki hissed as the sharp metal dug deeper at his nape, felt the blood run down in a thin rill. The Blondie drew the knife down again, this time hard enough to bleed him. It wasn’t a deep wound, but the sensation was unpleasant and the blood trickled down his back. Riki bit his lips and didn’t scream. Iason continued his handiwork, cutting, it felt, some pattern near his spine: almost geometrical lines at both sides of the slightly jutting out row of bones, the lines that started higher and went diagonally down.

At least Iason stopped. Riki, breathing heavily with fear, didn’t know what to expect next. The sudden complete silence would ring in his ears if he could hear anything but the furious beat of his heart. When the Elite was touching him with a knife it hurt somewhat but now it was almost worse because he didn’t even know where Iason was and what had he planned.

Riki almost jumped at the touch on his cock and a warm breath blown onto his ear shell. He shivered as the blade made contact with his nipple, pressing to it with the flat side, making it erect. The steel, warmed by the blood, wasn’t as cold as before. Riki could smell his own blood in the air, feel the smear of it on his left nipple.

Iason’s mouths fastened to his neck and Riki threw his head back despite his will. The Blondie chuckled and sucked the skin there. The blade traveled to the other nipple.

Simultaneously Iason’s free hand traveled up his side and outstretched arm. Riki shuddered at the tickles it gave him. His arms where turned out so to leave the underside of them exposed to the touch. The sensitive, rarely touched skin there was now covered in goosebumps. 

While having his front molested by the Jupiter’s favorite son, it was still hard to forget about his abused backside. Slick blood trickled down his back, mixing with sweat, reaching the lordosis, slowing there minutely to crept between his buttocks next. It was an awful, dirty feeling, he felt the slickness smearing high on his inner thighs with his every smallest movement. He didn’t feel pain however and wondered distantly if the blade was poisoned or if it was just adrenaline, caused by pleasure and fear, that drained him off the ability to register the stings of the cuts.

Then Iason was gone from before him and Riki’s chest suddenly registered the chill of the air, bereft of the other man’s warm presence. The room was completely silent and Riki thought if Iason could leave it without making any sound, without Riki noticing it. He turned his head around in vain, all he could see was the inside of the cloth warped around his eyes.

There was a touch on his ass so sudden Riki nearly shouted in surprise. He mastered himself enough to turn it into a curse.

\- For fucks sake! You’re a total psycho, you sadist. Stop jumping at me from all sides!

The hand squeezed one of his butt cheeks, kneading the muscles there as if in reassurance.

\- The deprivation of one of your base senses makes you nervous. But it also sharpens the others that you should learn to use. Like hearing, - whispered Iason to his right ear, - smell, - Riki felt the stronger stench of his own blood as Iason gathered some from his back and lifted it to his nose, - taste, - the Blondie smeared the blood on Riki’s lips and the mongrel felt the metallic flavor instantly, – or touch, - ended Iason and took his hand back down.

Riki felt the palm of one hand placed flat on his hip, the other creeping between his buttocks, dirtying in the blood gathered there, spreading the substance lavishly at the cleft of his ass. Two fingers dipped into his hole, pushing the slickness inside. Riki gasped, then groaned as the fingers repeated the movement none too gently.

Then the digits were out of his hole, traveling through his left cheek to his hipbone and settling there. Riki, held tightly at his hips from behind, didn’t need to see the scene to knew what’ll happen next.

And soon his anticipation was answered as he felt the big penis’ head pressing between his buttocks. It was at his hole but the girth was wider than the stretch of Riki’s entrance. Iason, being Iason, pushed in anyway.

This time Riki shouted, hating himself for it, for showing a weakness to his enemy, for letting the Blondie humiliate him once more. He bit at his lips, hard, to stop further noises, as the Elite drew into him, steadily, back and forth. The second thrust wasn’t as painful, Iason’s penis was more slickened in Riki’s blood. Even though the shallow wounds on his back almost stopped oozing with it by now, the blood gathered at his backside was enough for Iason’s purpose. And so the third shove felt like they were using a lubricant.

The Blondie’s thrusts were slow and measured, massaging his inner walls. Iason fucked him like he had all time in the world for this and wasn’t even a bit as frantic as humans about reaching an end.

Soon Riki was biting his lips not in order to keep in the screams of pain but to stifle the moans of pleasure. With growing horror he realized his manhood was waking, flooding him with desire.

After what had felt like eternity of the same pace – pleasurable enough to keep his cock interested – Riki was painfully hard. The steady strokes were enticing but they weren’t mean to give him satisfaction any time soon.

Finally Riki, mad with need, pushed his hips back to force his captor to sped up. Unsurprisingly, it failed. Iason’s hands moved him back, exactly where he was before his desperate try. Moreover, the Blondie stopped his thrusts, just stood behind him with the cock buried deep inside Riki, filling him up. The mongrel struggled but Iason’s grip on his hips was firm, keeping in place this one part of his body he so craved to move right now.

The Elite resumed his ordeal only after Riki gave up the fight and slumped in his chains.

This time the thrusts were aimed a little up, brushing just the right places inside of him. Riki understood, with utter disgust, it was a reward for his good behavior, for fulfilling the silent demand of staying still. But then he was past caring as the orgasm rushed through him and he came with a shout, without a single finger on his cock.

Iason fucked him longer. When they were finished, Riki felt like he was going to faint from exertion and the loss of blood. However inconsiderable the amount was for his system, combined with the almost hysterical state of his emotions – it was exhausting.

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps he did faint anyway. When he came to himself, he felt the moisture on his chest. He blinked, realizing the blindfold wasn’t there anymore and saw Daryl before him, cleaning his chest with a wet cloth.

Daryl gave no sign that he noticed Riki’s opened eyes. Riki observed him in silence, knowing his protests would be ignored by the furniture which fulfilled the Blondie’s order. Iason’s will was always above his own in this place.

Daryl moved to Riki’s back.

\- It may sting, - he warned before applying some substance to Riki’s wounds.

\- It stung when he craved them with a knife, - commented Riki, gritting his teeth. The cuts went aflame under the healing balsam.

\- I’m sorry, - said furniture in a colorless voice.

Riki scoffed. Daryl finished with his back and reached between his legs to wipe the cum from there.

\- No! – called Riki. – Leave it, untie me, I’ll do it myself.

The furniture ignored him as if he didn’t hear Riki’s words. The mongrel tried to kick him, but Daryl, used to Riki’s violence by now, omitted the flying limb neatly and set to his task.

\- What has he done to you?! Why are you so broken?! – yelled Riki, the words the only weapon he had left. – Why do you bear with me on his whim? He’s not even here. You could throw this all and leave me alone! And yet you’re here on your knees, cleaning his pet’s ass after he had used it… - Riki run off the words.

Daryl didn’t respond in any way, meeting Riki’s insults as ever – in dignified silence. No matter what Riki spat at him, the other boy never peaked up a challenge, never let himself be provoked into action.

\- He’ll break me too… - added Riki in a resigned voice.

Daryl stood up and came in  front of him, looking straight into Riki’s eyes. For a moment the mongrel thought he saw some spark in the brown orbits, like the furniture was about to say something out of line finally. But then the older boy walked away, looking at Riki over his arm once more as he was at the door.

 

* * *

 

 

\- What the fuck is that? – asked Riki when he was served with plastic cutlery.

He took one of the item in his hand.

\- A fork.

\- No shit, Daryl.

\- I deemed it unreasonable to provide you with sharp silverware, - explained Iason from the other side of the table, - knowing what use you can make of them.

Riki took the plastic knife, gripping it too tightly.

\- And how am I supposed to cut the meat with that? – Riki put the plastic knife to his plate to illustrate his point and the weak material split, a part of it shoot off and landed on the table.

\- You put too much strength into that, - commented Iason unperturbed. – Try do it gentler the next time.

\- Fuck that!

Riki send the plate flying to the floor. It broke into pieces, food smashed everywhere.

 - I’m not eating like that. Give me a normal knife!

Daryl went tense where he stood near the wall, eyeing the scene before him. Riki seethed with anger, Iason remained unmoved, glancing briefly at the remnants of the meal on the floor, then turning his eyes back to Riki.

\- Daryl, clean up this mess and serve Riki a new portion… on a plastic plate this time. And have everything cut already.

The furniture spring out of the dining room.

\- Pet, come here, - said Iason with perfect calmness.

Riki didn’t move.

\- If you don’t, I’ll have Daryl drag you here.

The furniture just came back with a new portion of the meal and the cleaning set. The boy left the latter and moved to place the food before Riki. The slumdog continue to stare at the Blondie with hateful gaze, ignoring everything else.

\- No, not there. Put it here, - ordered Iason, gesturing to the space next to his own dish.

The furniture fulfilled the demand and was about to move to the cleaning task, when Iason stopped him once more.

\- And bring the pet to me.

Only now Riki switched his gaze, abandoning this killing-with-a-stare thing with his master and eyeing the more immediate opponent. Daryl took him by the arm and make him stand up but as soon as Riki was on his feet, he wringed out and delivered a punch, hitting surprised Daryl in the face. He thought it would go easy, at least until Iason decides to step in, but he was wrong. His second blow was blocked, his arm wrenched back behind his back and he was forced to stop resisting in order not to hurt his joint. Riki cursed himself silently for falling for such a predictable move – he was too long out of the slums, forgetting the base rules - as Daryl led him the few steps that parted him from Iason. Iason took him by the wrist.

\- Fetch me the leash, the leather one, - the Blondie said to the furniture, then addressed Riki. – Kneel.

When Riki didn’t listen right away, the taller man pulled him down, without any apparent effort, without even standing up from his chair. Once Riki was on the ground, a large hand dropped onto his shoulder, keeping him there.

As Daryl appeared with the leash, Iason bid him to attach Riki to his chair. The mongrel could feel his cheeks burning hot with shame, almost envying Daryl who went to clean the mess.

Iason took the piece of food from Riki’s plate and offered it to the pet. Riki turned away his head as much as he could, regretting the leash was too short for him to move away. Humiliation choked him more than the collar.

\- As you wish, - said Iason with a smirk and proceeded to eat himself.

Riki kneeled at his feet, hating him with all his heart. Iason didn’t seem annoyed in the slightest with Riki’s recent actions. Now he didn’t even scold him about the destroyed property and the whole attempt at murder seemed only to amuse him, deliver him entertainment. This attitude was infinitely worse than the alternative in Riki’s opinion. The knowledge that his captor didn’t treat him seriously, didn’t see an actual threat in him – it was gnawing at Riki’s pride and hurt more than any brutal punishment ever could. It was infuriating as hell too.

And now, despite himself, despite all his rage, he felt more and more hungry. Watching Iason eat before his eyes, smelling the appetizing aroma of the food made his mouth water with saliva and his stomach rumble. Iason continued on as if Riki wasn’t there and the mongrel started to regret his earlier refusal.

After Iason finished his own meal, he finally turned his attention on Riki.

\- Hungry? – he asked serenely.

Riki looked awry at him.

\- Yes, - he gritted.

With a slight smile Iason brought a piece of meat before the mongrel’s mouth. This time, Riki ate.


End file.
